


Whoever You Want

by SeireiLeafy



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bottom Loki, Intersex!Loki, M/M, Porn With Plot, Sibling Incest, Smut, Thorki - Freeform, Top Thor, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:28:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29955447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeireiLeafy/pseuds/SeireiLeafy
Summary: An arrangement has left Loki wanting more, and this time, apparently, Thor intends to give him exactly that.
Relationships: Loki/Thor (Marvel)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 55





	Whoever You Want

**Author's Note:**

> Canon divergence; Loki knows he's a Frostgiant but he never betrayed Asgard and life went on as normal because I said so.

Today _sucked_.

Loki didn’t want to sound like a petulant teenage, god knows he’s been accused of that enough times in his adult life, but it was difficult not to when your parents treated you like one.

Right now, against his own will and at the behest of his father, the _Allfather_ (bless’d be he or whatever), Loki was sat at the table of an excruciatingly boring dinner. A gesture of good will to an apparently slighted noble family of Asgard that Loki had never bothered to learn the name of. He couldn’t understand why his attendance was necessitated when even Thor was not there. Not out on a crusade, not travelling between realms. Just not _there_. A double standard that did not escape Loki in that moment.

Only half attempting to stifle a yawn (he wasn’t rude, but he was _bored as hell_ ), Loki tried to tune out the mindless drawl coming from the head of the table as Sir Whatever-his-name-was told what he surely thought was a riveting tale. Hel, even Odin, who was trying to look politely interested, was clearly rolling his eyes mentally at the drivel. As he sat in unending tedium, Loki let his mind wander.

Where exactly _was_ Thor?

He was still in Asgard, Loki was certain. Thor had a strange but not unwelcome habit of telling him whenever he was travelling outside of the realm. Loki had never asked, and he never would have thanks to his at-times ridiculous pride (Loki could admit to at least that). But he did find peace in knowing when Thor was safe at home and when there may be cause for alarm for his well-being. It saved him from a lot of needless concern.

So, Thor was still in Asgard, because he hadn’t told Loki any different, and Loki had complete faith in Thor’s commitment to his odd little rituals.

Though, Loki thought, if he _had_ travelled elsewhere, the uninteresting day could very well take an interesting turn.

Typically, when Thor travelled it was for a one conquest or another, a fight to win or a claim to stake. And, as any warrior, after getting riled up in the heat of battle and the rush that came from a win, he would come home to celebrate with his brothers in arms. A banquet, a feast. A room full of mead, women, and song. And, if all went well and the stars aligned just right, the night would end in a visit to Loki’s room. And they would have their own personal little celebration.

It was wrong, Loki knew. But Loki also couldn’t bring himself to care too much. Besides, it wasn’t _entirely_ wrong considering, well…

Loki was never _actually_ Loki when Thor came to him for the night. Thor had always been very upfront about what he wanted. A warm place to bury himself for the night, and as long as Loki _looked_ like a person Thor actually wanted to fill, that was good enough.

It was something they had been doing for _years_. Ever since Loki had managed to master the skill of glamour. He could make himself look like anyone, and that was a useful tool to have at your disposal. But it wasn’t all just work and no games.

It had started off innocently enough. Loki had been teasing Thor one day about a girl Thor had been pining over. Well, pining was the wrong word. Lusting was more like it. It was too many years ago now, and Loki couldn’t remember her name. Some daughter of another noble Loki cared little about. She had been pretty, bright red hair and brighter green eyes, young. If Loki had been at all inclined towards the fairer sex, he may have attempted to pursue her himself.

Maybe he had taken it a step too far, changing his appearance to match hers and leaning in a little closer to Thor than necessary. Batting his (her) eyelashes and pressing his (her) chest up against Thor’s arm, even when he had seen his brother’s hands clench into fists in his lap. Unsurprisingly, especially when considering his typical lack of control over his emotions, Thor had _snapped_.

Loki had expected to be punched, thrown to the side, threatened, had been anticipating it actually, any excuse to be close to Thor. But what he got instead was his brother slamming him into the wall, claiming his lips and taking off his clothes.

It had been an… interesting night. Thor hadn’t come to his senses until after, and he had been filled with guilt and disgust when Loki’s glamour started to fail in his exhaustion, and he started to look like himself. Thor had apologized, buried his face in his hand. Thor saw a mistake.

But Loki saw an opportunity.

He had comforted Thor, tried to turn the experience into something other than what it was. It wasn’t _really_ incest, Loki had said. They weren’t _actually_ brothers, and Loki hadn’t _actually_ been Loki. Loki suggested a compromise, a deal of sorts. And the rest was history.

After all, they were both getting what they wanted. Thor got laid, and Loki got laid by Thor.

So what if Loki was getting more than just physical gratification out of it? So what if he was using it as a way to be close to Thor? And _so what_ if he had maybe just been a little tiny bit in love with him and was using any excuse to get the type of love and affection he wanted from him?

Loki sighed for perhaps the hundredth time that night, idly fiddling with a metal spoon that lay on the table in front of him. Across the expanse of food and wine, Frigga shot him a disapproving look, which he met with an apologetic smile and a shrug. If he was being honest, his mother asking for him to be here was the only reason he _actually_ showed. Odin would have had a snowballs chance in hell of getting him here otherwise. But even his devotion to his mother didn’t stop the event from sapping his will to live.

She shook her head at him, but the small smile that graced her face betrayed her as she turned back to engage in the conversation still happening beside her.

Oh, if only her and Odin knew what their sons got up to. Loki shuddered to think of the wrath that would rain down upon them if their secret ever got out. Best not to think about that, Loki thinks.

It couldn’t have been more than another five minutes, though it felt like a lifetime, before the door to the modest banquet hall they were dining in was being flung open by a very enthusiastic looking Thor. The Nobleman jumped at the intrusion, but Loki simply regarded Thor from his somewhat slumped position in his chair with vague amusement.

“Father, Mother, good evening! And Lord Fane, how are you?”

Loki raised an eyebrow at Thor’s jovial greeting, taking in his appearance as he stood confidently in the doorway. He might as well have been his nightclothes, dressed simply in a tunic and pants. Hardly the type of garb for the next King of Asgard to be wearing about company. After a few moments of confused stuttered replies from the Nobleman, Thor interjected again, impatiently.

“So sorry to interrupt, but I wonder if I might steal my brother away from you all?” Thor turned his eye to Loki, and something in his eye told Loki that perhaps mischief was afoot. When he spoke next, he was addressing Loki directly, tone changed ever so slightly. “Now.”

Certainly not a question, but a subtle command, and Loki knew _exactly_ what was afoot. He was out of his seat before anyone with authority to do so could deny his brother’s request.

“It seems that I must take my leave, it was wonderful meeting you, Lord Fane.” Thank you, Thor. “Mother, Father. Good evening.”

If there was protest to his exit, he didn’t stick around to hear it, moving from his seat and sweeping towards the doorway eagerly. He was itching to get out of that dinner, and to get into whatever Thor had planned for them.

By the time Loki had cleared the room and close the door behind him, Thor had already made it halfway down the hall, and was rounding a corner. But Loki knew exactly where he was headed.

Thor’s quarters weren’t terribly far away, after all.

The journey there was done in silence, Loki knew this dance well enough to not question it. He noticed a stiffness in the way Thor walked, and vaguely wondered why his brother seemed so tense. Not that it mattered much right now, he surely wouldn’t be so tense after what they were going to do. Loki grinned to himself.

When Loki finally reached Thor’s chamber door, the thunderer had already entered the room and Loki stopped at the door, discreetly looking down the halls in case of onlookers. When he was certain they were in the clear, he slipped into the room behind him.

Hands grabbed at him quickly and he felt himself being spun around.

Loki’s back hit the granite wall hard enough to knock the air from his lungs, not able to catch his footing quite in time to save himself the almost painful impact. Thank the Norns he had half a mind left in his shameful excitement to keep his head from making contact with the harsh stone, or the night would be over before it began.

And then Thor was there, having slammed shut the door to his chambers loudly and forcefully, hands fisted in Loki’s shirt tightly as he pressed him bodily into the wall behind him. Loki quickly brought his hands up to grab onto Thor’s wrists to stabilise himself, and to reign in Thor, as much as that was possible.

That was the problem with the thunderer, he treated even the task of bedding someone as if it were a conquest. Often times, Loki has followed him into his chambers, unsure whether he was walking into a night of pain or pleasure. Not knowing if Thor has a bone to pick with him and a fist to throw at him.

It is often Loki doesn’t know for sure, even several torn garments later, until Thor is spitting someone’s name at him and he has to fight through the fog in his mind to put a face to it, summoning his magic and suddenly finding Thor’s lips on his newly conjured one’s moments later.

Loki hardly wants to think what it says about him that even with the threat of violence, Loki follows Thor into uncertainty every time.

Only this time, no name is mentioned, and Thor is already beginning to lean in. _Oaf, once again forgets I can’t read minds._

It wouldn’t have been the first time Thor had gotten ahead of himself, and by extension, Loki. Typically, though, it was when the thunderer was especially drunk, slurring his words and beginning to undress before remembering what he was about to do and who he was about to be doing. Usually, he came back to himself quickly. More often than not without much prompting, and in his drunkenness, angrily spat a name at him, likely wondering why Loki still looked like Loki.

But from this far away, which was quickly becoming less far by the millisecond, Loki would have been able to smell the sickly sweetness of honeyed mead. And he recalled no stumbling over words or slurred sibilance in his abrupt summons to Thor’s chambers. Not drunk, then. Perhaps just stupid in his arousal, whoever the cause may have been.

And although Loki didn’t want to think about conjuring glamour to replace his own face with another, and though he wanted nothing more than to allow Thor to continue on, kissing _his_ lips and, moaning _his_ name, Loki refused to let Thor hate him for a lapse in memory.

Moving quickly, Loki let go of Thor’s wrists, pressing into his chest instead and stopping him from advancing forwards before he did something he regretted. Or someone he regretted.

Thor’s eyes, which had been in the process of closing, opened once again as a frown graced his face. Loki took a moment to breathe, sucking in the lost air that had been knocked out of him when his back had met unyielding stone. He swallowed, opened his mouth, and prayed for his voice to hold steady. He always lost his composure when he was allowed to indulge in Thor like this. Perhaps it helped Thor build the fantasy that he wasn’t who he was.

“You haven’t… W-who do you want me to be tonight?”

Oddly enough, the question made the expression on Thor’s face crumble. His scorn at being stopped being replaced with confusion, which in turn very abruptly fell to something sadder, almost pitying but not quite. Something else that Loki couldn’t put a name to. Not shockingly, he never was the best at emotions, his own or anyone else’s.

The hands that had been holding the lapels of his tunic in a vice grip loosened, leaving the fabric. One of his hands travelled down Loki’s arm to grasp a hand that Loki had placed on his chest, the other came up to rest of Loki’s cheek. Thor leaned in again, but Loki knew he wasn’t going for another kiss, instead Thor rested his forehead against Loki’s own.

This was a gesture that Thor had done many a time in their years growing up, Thor’s version of a kiss on the cheek, a soothing gesture that Loki had over time come to realise was Thor’s wordless way of comforting a person. Of comforting Loki. He had seldom seen it used with anyone else, save their mother. Thor’s own special love language.

Thor kept his eyes open, training his gaze fixedly on Loki’s own. A soft, gentle expression that Loki was never privy to on these nights.

Loki closed his own eyes, unable to keep the eye contact. It wasn’t something that was part of their arrangement, eye contact. Thor never looked him in the eye when he came to him with lust in his heart. Apparently, no matter how much he tried, despite his best of efforts, Loki was not skilled enough to do much about what Thor saw in his eyes when they laid together.

He could change the colour easily enough, the shape. Hel, he could change the _number_ of eyes he had if it were a particularly frisky night and some alien maiden had caught Thor’s attention enough. But no matter what he did, Thor could still see his brother in his eyes.

Loki couldn’t deny the hurt that came from the action.

When Loki opened his eyes again, Thor was still looking at him. Loki couldn’t stop the harsh intake of breath, nor his breath picking up pace. It was close. Intimate. More intimate than he had ever been allowed to get with Thor as just as himself. It was a little too much.

And then, oh then, Thor had to open his stupid mouth.

“No one, Loki. I want you to be you.”

Shock stole all words from Loki’s lungs. He frowned, confusion and disbelief fighting for dominance in his brain as he tried to work through what Thor had said. Thor, for his part, kept his gaze level, thumb passing over his cheek in a metronome. He seemed so calm and sure and Loki wished he could keep the eye contact, but his eyes were drawn down to Thor’s stupid, _stupid_ mouth as it spoke again. “Loki.”

Loki watched the soft lips form the words before flicking his eyes back up to Thor’s. He felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“Thor…”

And then the gap between them was being closed. The lips that Loki had been kissed by so many times before, but he had never _really_ kissed, finally pressing into his. _His_. Loki was painfully aware that this was probably what would be considered his first kiss with Thor. The others didn’t count. The others didn’t exist. The times they had done this that Loki had clung to so desperately in the past to tell himself he had _something_ of the relationship he wanted with Thor, none of those had ever happened as far as Loki cared. Now, he had the real thing, he didn’t really care if it was fleeting. One chaste kiss from Thor as Loki beat out rough nights of misplaced passion as anyone else.

The kiss might as well have been a kiss just in name, the press so light, mouth closed. It was a playground kiss, but Loki’s eyes fluttered like a maiden anyway, body all but melting where it had been tense. It lasted maybe three seconds, but Loki knew those three seconds would stake their share of real estate in his memory.

When Thor pulled back, Loki let his eyes open again.

“Loki,” Thor was so close that Loki could feel the air part to make way for his words, “if it’s okay, if you’re comfortable, I just want you. As you are. As Loki.”

Loki swallowed, a lump had formed in his throat and this, Loki thought, was a monumentally stupid time to get choked up. If Loki got close to crying, it would definitely set off Thor, and then the whole night would be ruined, and Loki _refused_ to let that happen. Instead of trying to speak and his voice cracking and giving him away, he opted for a small nod of acquiescence. Thor returned the nod, along with a small grin that Loki would have returned if he were in control of his face, and then the gap between them was gone again and Thor was kissing him.

This time, the kiss was a _kiss_ , and Loki was opening his mouth in less than a second to allow Thor to deepen it. Loki let the thunderer press into him fully, bringing his own arms up to wrap around his neck and return the kiss with fervour. As he did, he heard Thor groan into his mouth, a sound so primal that Loki could feel it in Thor’s chest as it vibrated against him.

Loki must have gotten lost in the kiss, which in his defence, was an incredibly easy thing to do. Thor was great at many things, but if kissing were how they settled their wars, then Thor would be king in less than a day. By the time Loki started paying attention to anything other than the other man’s tongue exploring his mouth, Thor’s hands were already on his hips, thumbs pressing into the divot below his hipbones, and Thor’s thigh was nudging between his own.

Loki made a sound in the back of his throat that a very brave person might describe as a whine if Loki wouldn’t smite them for it, moving to spread his legs and allow Thor more room to press into him. Thor, it seemed, had a slightly different idea, one hand coming round the meat of his thigh, and hoisting Loki’s leg up his own side, opening up Loki’s hips.

He almost protested the movement, undignified as it was, but found his objections snatched from him as Thor took advantage of the new angle, moving his leg into Loki’s groin and grinding his hips forward to create friction.

That’s where Loki had to break the kiss. He didn’t want to, of course, but the delicious pressure was too much, and he found his head colliding with the stone behind him as he gasped out at the feeling. Thor was immediately at Loki’s neck, all harsh teeth and gentle kisses, the combination in time with the still torturous movements of Thor’s leg between his own knocking sound after sound from Loki’s throat.

The onslaught of sensation was wonderful, Loki could stay in that moment forever and be contented. But his hands were getting restless, fidgety, he was getting tired of being an idle participant. He wanted to _touch_. But Thor was still wearing far too many clothes.

Bringing his hands down from around Thor’s neck, he began working at the buttons holding closed the simple tunic Thor was wearing. Loki silently praised Thor for his forward thinking, wearing simple clothing that would be easy to remove. In the same mental breath, he cursed the Allfather for his stupid dinner necessitating Loki to be dressed up in his leather garb. Much more complex than the thunderer’s attire, and a _bitch_ to get out of in a hurry.

As he worked at the buttons, Thor pulled away from his neck, which Loki thought was quite rude, until he pressed another light kiss to Loki’s mouth. “Bed?”

Thor’s voice was deeper now, gravelly and worn as if he had been the one moaning and whining. Loki found himself nodding without a single thought.

Thor detached himself from him, again _rude_ , letting Loki’s leg down gently and stepping back. Loki stayed leaning against the wall, taking in as many deep breaths as he could. Thor grinned at him lopsidedly, before reaching down and pulling his tunic over his head, baring his torso.

And dammit, he _knew_ he was beautiful, and Loki felt a twinge of self-consciousness because he _always_ wore a shirt. Even when training in the yard, against each other or a training pole, when Thor had taken off his shirt from the beating sun and Loki couldn’t barely cope with the heat, he stayed clothed. He’s certain Thor had probably seen him without his shirt before, he must have, but context is everything and it was a little different now staring at the bare chest of an Adonis. Loki knew he didn’t measure up.

He was ogling, he knew. And Thor was clearly basking in the attention, but Loki was battling an internal struggle that he _knew_ wouldn’t be the last one of the night. He toyed with one of the buckles pressed into his chest, fingers fiddling for a second before he began to undo them. A few buckles here, a strap or two there, Loki tried to fight the heat in his face as his stupid formal attire forced him to essentially perform a strip-tease for the man in front of him.

Eventually, after far too long of silence from Thor and struggling from Loki, the fabric finally gave and Loki was pulling it up over his head and down his arms. 

When the fabric cleared his eyes, he searched out Thor’s again. The thunderer was grinning at him, once again closing the distance between them and this time wrapping his arms around Loki’s waist.

“ _Much_ better.”

Before Loki could stop it, he was being lifted off the ground, his arms automatically seeking out Thor’s neck for stability and his legs wrapping around his waist for support. Thor connected their lips again and Loki wasn’t even aware they were moving before he felt his world tilt on its axis and suddenly, he was horizontal, pressed into the bed with Thor’s weight bearing down on him.

Thor didn’t let up, not that Loki was complaining much, and continued to explore his mouth with his tongue. Then, Thor was pressing his hips down into his own and he could _feel_ the evidence of just how excited Thor was pressing into him.

Loki broke away, coming to his senses, so to speak, gasping for breath as he tried to gather his thoughts. It occurred to Loki that, if the night was to progress, and he was to fulfill Thor’s wish of being completely an unabashedly himself, he would probably have some explaining to do.

Being a Jotuun, other than the crippling self-hatred he had been trying to work through since he had found out, also came with another certain _anatomical_ problem. Having always made himself female for Thor in the past, and having relied on glamour at other certain times, there was a fairly good chance that Thor was _unaware_ of that particular quirk.

“Thor, w-wait, just one moment.”

Thor hummed from where he had buried himself in Loki’s neck. When he didn’t cease his advances on the soft skin there, Loki pressed his hands once again into his shoulders, bringing him up and away. Thor frowned down at him.

“Is something the matter?”

Loki opened his mouth to respond, wondering just how he could word this delicately enough.

“It’s j-just… Jotuun anatomy is a little different than you may be used to, and-“

“Loki.”

The stern voice was more than enough to get Loki to immediately shut his trap, which was probably for the best; he felt a rant coming on. Thor really could have a commanding tone fit for a king when he wanted to.

“I do not care. You could be completely smooth down there and I would find a way to make this work.”

Loki wasn’t entirely sure why now, of all times, when he’s finally getting what he wants, what he had been craving for the past few years they’ve been doing this, he was getting so nervous. So aware of the different makeup of his body. He had never had concerns about his body or anatomy before, past despising it for its heritage, he had never been, before this night, particularly self-conscious. Though, he had never been asked to be completely and unquestionably himself before.

Usually in situations where he found himself in bed with another being, he simply magicked up the genitalia that was most expected of him to have, or sometimes, with the bolder bed partners that were aware of his abilities in the appearance altering magicks, the ones that were requested of him. But never had Loki allowed a lover to see him in his most natural of states.

He must have been wrapped up in his thoughts for longer than he’d thought, because Thor was pulling away from him, sitting back on his haunches and look down at Loki where he still lay prone on the bed. For a split-second, Loki felt panic brew in his stomach at the distance Thor had put himself, worried that perhaps his incessant self-loathing was a little too off putting for the thunderer and he was about to call the whole thing off. Before Loki could work himself into a state, however, Thor gave him an understanding smile, raising his eyebrows.

“Would you like me turn around while you disrobe?”

Loki frowned at the offer. Thor continued.

“If you aren’t comfortable, I can look away until you feel alright.”

That’s what did it for Loki. The consideration, the concern, the utter Thor-ness of it all had him pulling the thunderer back down to him by his wrist and crushing their lips together again, trying to convey his appreciation in the one act as well he could. Of course, Thor wouldn’t judge him. Wouldn’t mock him, be disgusted by him. That just… wasn’t Thor.

When they broke for air, before Thor could open his mouth and say something stupid (because of course, that _was_ Thor. Endearing, but not the time for it), Loki spoke.

“Shut up, take off my pants. Now.”

Thor’s face split into a grin and he immediately obeyed, pulling back once again, hands travelling down to begin at the complicated clasps and buckles of Loki’s much-more-than-usually tight pants. _Wonder why that is_.

With much effort on Thor’s part, and a little help from Loki, together they managed to undo all the bits holding together the complex garment. Thor hooked his fingers over the waistband of Loki’s pants, catching his undergarments as well, before his eye caught Loki’s.

“You’re sure?”

Loki swallowed. He wasn’t sure, but he was _so sure_. He nodded, tilting his hips up off the bed slightly to allow Thor the room to remove his pants.

Only a few moments later, Loki was bared to him. He could feel his heart thudding harder in his chest than he ever remembered it doing, in bed or in the heat of battle, nerves firing off in his gut, and he closed his eyes against the burn in his cheeks. Thor, he reminded himself, wanted this. Wanted him. Asked for this so _specifically_ that there really was no room to question whether or not actually seeing him naked as himself for the first time would be anything close to a turn off. But you can never know for _sure_. Loki had done this so few times in the past, and each time it had happened, he had been cast aside, called a freak. Laughed at. God, he hated it when they _laughed_.

The ever-present self-consciousness bubbled up, and Loki found his legs automatically closing, knees coming together to hide his shame. His mutation. Deformity. _Disgusting_.

But there were gentle hands gripping the soft skin of his thighs, pulling apart without prying as Thor exposed Loki once again. He allowed it to happen.

Eyes still closed, he couldn’t see the expression on Thor’s face, nor see what his next move was going to be. But then a tentative hand was trailing down his inner thigh, pressing into his skin softly, dropping dangerously close to his sex, but going no further. Loki’s whole body prickled with anticipation.

“Oh, _Loki_ …”

Thor’s breathless voice whispered from above him, and Loki couldn’t hear any of the repulsion he had come to expect.

“ _This_ is what you were ashamed to show me?”

Loki braved cracking open his eyes, but Thor wasn’t catching his gaze. His eyes were trained with intensity between Loki’s thighs. A few beats passed, Loki watching Thor and Thor more or less ogling Loki with what he could only describe as abject awe. Soon enough, Thor was looking back up at Loki, his breathing noticeably shallower than it had been before.

“May I?”

Loki swallowed before nodding, not trusting his voice.

Thor nodded back at him, leaning in to press a kiss to the inside of his knee before pulling back and letting his hand begin to move.

A careful but sure palm pressed against his cock, pushing it flush to his lower stomach, fingers parted to allow Loki’s shaft to pass through with just enough friction to cause Loki’s breath to hitch, and force him to supress a shudder. Part of Loki marvelled slightly at the idea that that was what Thor had gone for first. He had assumed, rather obviously, that Thor was attracted to females. Clearly, Loki being the outlier meant little when he could change his sexual organs so freely, Thor could very well be attracted to him and still be avoidant or affronted when faced with a very _male_ dick. But instead of avoiding Loki’s male sex like he had guessed he might, he went straight for it, no hesitation. Loki couldn’t help but be a little touched at the idea, as ridiculous as it was.

The palm trailed downward, touch still light and exploring, parted fingers coming together as he moved passed the base of Loki’s cock and slid softly over the bundle of nerves buried at the top of his secondary sex organ. Loki tried not to jolt at the touch, but it was arguably the most sensitive part of him, and despite the soft touch, his legs twitched with the supressed tic.

Thor didn’t linger though, and then his fingers were pressing into his folds. He was already, embarrassingly enough, nearly dripping with arousal. Loki found it slightly ridiculous that, in comparison to activities they had participated in in the past, something so _vanilla_ and _basic_ had turned him on so much already. The soft glide came to a stop at Loki’s entrance, and Thor put just a little bit of pressure, just enough that two of his fingers just slightly stretched him. And then Thor’s hand was moving away again, back up to his dick and a calloused hand was wrapping around the slender shaft in a light grasp, fingers glistening with Loki’s slick.

Thor’s eyes finally left the movement of his own hand, meeting Loki’s.

“You are _beautiful_ , brother.”

At the words, just four simple words, Loki felt a ball of emotion well in his chest. Selfish joy at praise he so seldom heard in his lifetime, not even just regarding his appearance, but for _anything_. Hearing it come from Thor, who was so grandiose and handsome in everything he was and did, made Loki’s pride swell just a little, beating out the self-consciousness that came from the unnatural formation of his body. He believed it.

And then, under the glowing feeling of happiness and relief of acceptance, another less pure emotion. Lust. Guilty, horrid, _disgusting_ lust because Thor had just called him _brother_. And instead of coming to his senses, instead of pushing Thor away because they were _family_ , maybe not in blood but in everything else that mattered, Loki felt a surge of arousal wash over him like a burning wave and his sex, both of them, almost painfully throbbed.

Thor, the damned gloating bastard, must have felt it to. A grin spread across the man’s face, and he brought one hand up to brace himself beside Loki’s head, leaning down so that he loomed over Loki more directly now. His other hand, still wrapped around Loki’s cock, loosened slightly.

“What’s this now?”

Loki shook his head, bringing his hands up to grab Thor’s shoulders for lack of anything else to do. The other man’s skin was warm and soft. Loki tried his best to make his eyeroll convincingly annoyed.

“ _Must_ you call me that when we’re doing _this_ of all things?” 

The look on Thor’s face was downright mischievous, and Loki can’t believe he never noticed just how well that look suited him until now.

“What’s the matter? Don’t like it, _brother_?”

Even though he saw it coming this time, it didn’t stop the skipping of his heart, the twitch in his cock and the flush in his face as he practically drowned in the delicious shame that threatened to drag him under. Thor was observant when he wanted to be, and of course he would use his powers for evil. No one is _that_ innocent.

“You know what I think, Loki?”

Loki could probably make an educated guess, but before he could open his mouth and conjure a scalding, classic Loki rebuttal, Thor’s hand tightened. Just slightly, but then it dragged up his cock to the tip, his thumb nudging just beneath the sensitive head and rubbing lightly at a particularly pleasurable spot. Loki breath caught in his throat, and whatever he was about to say disappeared into the ether before it left even his tongue.

“I think you _like it_. The depravity of it all. What would people think if they knew?”

Another stroke and Loki thought he might just have one too, the battle-hardened skin dragging over his dick was so delicious in its friction, and this time Loki didn’t bother to bury the gasp that fought its way from him.

“The two crown princes of Asgard, in bed together. Touching. Kissing.”

On a downstroke, Thor’s hand left his dick travelling down over Loki’s near dripping sex, two fingers crooking to press ever so slightly once again against his entrance. Thor leant further in then, hot breath on the skin of his neck, lips practically against his ear but without touching. Loki closed his eyes at the intimacy once again, one hand moving from Thor’s shoulder to wrap around the back of his neck, holding him at the close distance he had put himself.

“Fucking.”

This time, Loki couldn’t have stopped the wanton moan that came from him had he tried. His hands were immediately at the clasp at the front of Thor’s pants, fighting to get them undone as quickly as he could.

“ _Language_ , Thor.” Loki’s voice was almost a hiss but with no real venom behind the chastising words. In reality, he would pay with real gold to hear Thor befoul his mouth for him again, only him. So seldom did his brother curse, that it only added to the mounting taboo of the night.

Loki’s hands stumbled in their attempts to undo the secondary clasps of Thor’s garments, having finally conquered the primaries, when Thor’s fingers were once again trailing up, only to come to rub gentle circles around his clit. Loki’s thighs tensed and his hips canted upwards into the pressure, even though Loki knew any more than what he was doing would likely be too much. He dropped his head back into the pillow behind his head from where he had been watching his own progress with Thor’s pants. Now, he was working blindly in his attempts to disrobe his brother, while Thor seemed to be doing everything in his power to completely wipe Loki’s thoughts blank with the slow, gentle movements of just two of his fingers.

“That isn’t helping –“

“Would you like me to stop?”

Loki could take a hint when persuaded, and quickly shut his mouth before anything of what was happening could come anywhere near close to stopping. A deep chuckle reverberated into his jaw where Thor was now pressing soft kisses. A few moments of fumbling more, and Loki finally, mercifully, felt the clasp between his fingers release.

Loki huffed out a triumphant laugh, not wasting any time before his hands were pushing Thor’s pants down as far as his arms could reach in this position, pinned under the thunderer. It wasn’t far, barely mid-thigh, but it was far enough that when Loki tilted his head back down, he could see the impressive tenting at the front of Thor’s undergarments. Something about the restricted view always made Loki’s mouth water with anticipation.

“Go easy, brother.”

“All due respect, _brother_ ,” and lord have mercy, saying the word felt much dirtier than hearing it, “I have been going easy for far too long.”

Thor chose that time to pull back from his neck, looking down at Loki with blown pupils, and for a second Loki felt like he was being pinned by the gaze. Something told Loki that he would never quite get used to Thor looking at him, _really_ looking at him, like that, with those eyes.

“Do you mean to tell me, then, that you want it _hard_?”

Though his breath caught in his throat and his gut jumped at the words, Loki plastered on a sly grin, taking the words for what they were, a challenge. This was his comfort zone, meeting a challenge head on with his wit and just a little bit of dirty tactics.

Loki brought his hands up from where they were still on Thor’s strong thighs, wrapping his arms around Thor’s neck and pulling himself up to the other man. He made sure to get a hairs breadth away from the thunderer’s lips, could feel the others breath ghosting across his mouth. Sliding out his tongue, he licked Thor’s bottom lip.

Loki could fight _dirty_ when he wanted to.

“Give me everything you’ve got, brother.”

**Author's Note:**

> this is trash, i am trash, thank you for your support. comments give me life btw.


End file.
